


The Liaison

by Thunderthighs



Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Aftercare, Angst and Fluff and Smut, BDSM, Body Worship, Consensual Kink, Dom/sub, Enthusiastic Consent, Exhibitionism, Explicit Consent, Getting to Know Each Other, How Do I Tag This, Interspecies Relationship(s), Kink Negotiation, Knotting, Oral Fixation, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Polyamory, Porn With Plot, Rough Sex, Shameless Smut, The opposite of a slow burn, Turians, Wartime Romance, this is a sweet lovestory I promise
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-12
Updated: 2018-08-16
Packaged: 2019-02-01 03:29:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12696384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thunderthighs/pseuds/Thunderthighs
Summary: Lt Brae Engelstad and General Adrien Victus have both had to leave their homeworlds in order to save them.Assigned to act as Liaison to the new Primarch during his time on the Normandy, Brae feels drawn to the stoic turian; sensing in him a kindred spirit.With casualties and tensions rising, they come to an arrangement to blow off some steam, and in the process find unexpected solace in each other.A/N: Brae is nonbinary and uses they/them pronouns for the entirety of this fic. There seemed to be some confusion about this, so I just want to be clear: this is a story with a queer protagonist. If you have problems with that, or with the singular they, I don't wanna hear about it, and this story probably isn't for you.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Brae is agender and uses they/them pronouns  
> ~  
> I've had this fic in the works for months, and I'm so excited to finally share it! <3
> 
> Big thank you to Hotot for beta reading, and everyone who gave me encouragement along the way

_ They were in the parking lot when the call came through.  _

_ Halfway to their car, almost bouncing with anticipation. One month of leave, a rented boat, and their brother were waiting for them at home. Vague plans of sailing up to the Princess Louisa inlet, see what kind of adventure they could find. _

_ The sirens stopped them in their tracks, their blood turning to ice in an instant. _

_ They were already sprinting back towards the base when their omnitool lit up, calling all crew of the  _ SSV Jakarta _ to return to their posts immediately. _

_ The next moment a deep, rumbling bass wail overpowered the sirens, vibrating the base of Brae’s skull, as Vancouver dissolved into chaos and panic around them. _

_ The sirens bled into shouts and screams, the sounds of buildings collapsing, and gunfire as great black shadows descended through the clouds. _

_ Panic warred with their years of military training, and Brae nearly lost track of which direction they were running, great red beams were slicing through buildings and ships alike, as they tried to find a clear path back to the ship. Adrenaline hummed through their veins as they dodged falling rubble, and soon the only sounds they could hear were their own pulse and the throbbing wail trying to pry into their skull.  _

_ A flash of light and heat came from behind, and Brae found themself thrown forward onto the pavement, a sharp pain blooming in their leg as something hard and heavy slammed into them from behind.  _

_ They tried to scramble back to their feet, but they couldn’t move their right leg. _

_ They choked on the dust and smoke filling the air around them, and thought something must have hit their head, because they were starting to see shapes forming in the haze.  Misshapen, only vaguely humanoid looking lumps, with glowing eyes seemed to be emerging from the debris. Brae scrabbled about, hoping their hands would land on something, anything they could use as a weapon, just in case the shapes were real. They tried to convince themself the shapes weren’t real, but they seemed to be getting closer. _

_ Another rumbling screech, and Brae forgot about the shapes, clutching their ears in vain to block out the sound like a voice in their head that wanted to tear them apart. _

~~~

Brae started awake with a scream lodged in the back of their throat, drenched in a cold sweat, unaware for a moment of where they were; until the faint medicinal tang in the air and familiar hum of a mass effect drive brought them fully back to the present.

_ The Normandy. Medbay. _

They only barely recognized the unconscious man lying in the next bed over as the one who had used his biotics to lift the rubble off of them and drug them to safety while a larger marine had laid down cover fire.

_ Major Alenko and Lt Vega. _ They reminded themself, there had been terse introductions exchanged later, once the ship had safely left earth behind on the way to mars, as Alenko had set Brae’s broken tibia and encased their leg in an immobilizing mass effect field. 

Shit, the Major looked bad. Bruises mottled the skin of his face and throat, and his whole head looked  _ swollen.  _ The only sign that he was still alive was the shallow rise and fall of his chest. Whatever had happened on Mars hadn’t been good. Brae shuddered as they remembered black shadows appearing out of the clouds and thought they probably had a very good idea what had happened.

And now they were en route to the Citadel. 

They clenched a fistfull of sheets at the thought. They should be on  _ Earth, _ fighting those things. Those… Reapers. They had a duty to protect their homeworld, their  _ family _ , so how in hell had they ended up on a classified stealth frigate flying in the opposite direction?

They took a deep breath, pushing thoughts of the destruction in Vancouver and their brother waiting for them at the docks from their head. They managed to force their grip on the sheet on the sheet to relax, though the rest of them remained as tense as a tightly wound spring.

If Major Alenko and Lt Vega hadn’t pulled them from the rubble, they would never have made it to  _ The Jakarta  _ anyway. They would be dead.

As angry and frustrated as they were to have involuntarily left Earth, at least they were alive, and that meant there was still a chance for them to get back in the fight.

...as soon as their leg healed..

_ Fuck.  _ they swore under their breath and racked their mind for somewhere productive to direct their rage.

What did they know about this ship? Commander Shepard was here, and apparently in command, despite having spent the last six months in lock up…

They clenched their fists again as they put the pieces together. 

_ Shit _

Shepard had been going on about a threat to the galaxy for years, even before he’d disappeared for two years and been presumed dead. The claims had been discredited, of course, but what if…

After what they’d seen today, Brae was suddenly inclined to believe him. If those...things.. were the Reapers Shepard had warned about, then it wasn’t just Earth. The whole galaxy was facing this threat.

Brae was still pissed off about leaving, but this new line of thought made them feel better about it. If this was a Reaper invasion, they’d bet anything Commander Shepard was going to be at the forefront of the galaxy’s defence, whether he was ordered to or no. The thick of the fight.. That’s where Brae needed to be. 

They needed to get themself reassigned to the Normandy. 


	2. Chapter 2

_ Palaven was burning. _

The fires were intense enough that they could almost be mistaken for a smoldering piece of coal hanging in the sky over Menae, a constant reminder that his people were dying. 

Whenever Adrien looked up, a phantom scent of smoke stuck on the back of his tongue.

So he avoided looking up.

He looked instead to his soldiers, to the tactics that never stopped churning in the back of his mind. He looked to the fight on Menae, and to anything that could give them an edge against these impossible odds.

But when they came to tell him of Fedorian’s death, that he was the new primarch, he looked up. When they told him he needed to leave his home to save it, he let the glowing cinder of Cipritine burn into his retina, and felt the smoke choke him for just a moment. 

Palaven was burning, and he felt so inadequate to the task of saving her.

He knew his place was here with his soldiers, here where he actually knew how to make a difference, not in some safe place reading casualty reports.

But he also knew his duty, and while his place might be here, it seemed his duty was elsewhere. Perhaps this human was right, perhaps he was the only one who  _ could _ lead his people through this. He felt as if a fist were clenched around his heart, that this war would squeeze the life out of him, even as the wheels in the back of his head started turning, working on new tactics, trying to grasp the shape of this conflict and chart a course to the other side. 

Palaven was burning, and he must leave her if his people were to have a hope.

It was his duty now, and a good turian does his duty no matter the cost.

So he left, taking a moment to say goodbye to the soldiers under his command, distributing last minute orders and gathering what little gear he was willing to take with him. It would be most useful here on the front lines, so he took only a few essentials as he boarded a shuttle to the Normandy, keeping his gaze on Palaven out the viewport until the curvature of Menae blocked it from view.

He let the image burn into his memory so he wouldn’t forget the stakes he was up against.

~~

The moment he stepped off the shuttle in the  _ Normandy’s  _ shuttle bay, Adrien’s attention was drawn to a human marine standing at attention 

“Primarch, this is Lieutenant Engelstad,” Shepard said, exiting the shuttle behind him. “They’ve been assigned to be your liaison for your time on board the Normandy. They’ll see that you have everything you need and act as your assistant should you require one.”  

The Lieutenant surprised him by snapping him a distinctly turian salute as they were introduced, and he lost track of what Shepard was saying for a moment as he took a closer look at the soldier. They looked like an average Alliance marine, but their was a fire burning in their eyes, and the fact the fact that they had not only given him a turian salute, but the  _ correct _ turian salute, indicating respect to an individual of higher rank but who was not their commanding officer, told him that they new more about his people than most of their peers. 

“...been thoroughly vetted.” Shepard continued, toying with his omnitool as Adrien tore his curious gaze away from the Lieutenant. “I’ve sent you their file, if you have any objections, or if you wish to bring one of your own men-”

“That will be quite alright, Commander.” Adrien said, cutting Shepard off as he accepted the file transfer on his own omnitool. “My people are needed where they are.” He looked back to nod at the Lieutenant, who seemed to be giving him their own appraising glance. “At ease, Lieutenant. Engelstad, was it?” The human name felt odd in his mouth.

“Yes sir, Brae Engelstad.” They returned his nod in greeting as they relaxed their posture. “It’s an honor to meet you Primarch, wish it was under better circumstances.” Their face tightened, and Adrien wished he was better at reading human expressions. The trouble was, their faces were  _ too _ expressive, with so much room for nuance that he got lost. It was probably how other species felt trying to decipher turian voices, he mused, and would have laughed had he felt capable of it. 

“A sentiment I share entirely.” Adrien said, tasting again the smoke of Palaven and Menae. He hazarded a guess that the lieutenant’s tense expression was due to something very similar. Pushing the memory from his mind, he realized that he and the Lieutenant were each quietly studying the other. He turned to find Shepard looking back and forth between the two of them, a curious expression on his face. Adrien cleared his throat.

“Thank you Commander, I believe Lieutenant Engelstad can take it from here. I know you must have urgent duties to attend to.” He shot a meaningful glance at Vakarian, standing a step behind the human commander and looking a bit sheepish. If the chittering excitement and affection he’d heard in the other turian’s subvocals for the length of the shuttle ride was anything to go by, the two of them were likely eager to find a more private reunion. He didn’t begrudge them that, spirits knew they could all use a bit of comfort and stress relief right now. 

Expressing approval to Garrus with his subvocals, he turned and motioned for Engelstad to lead the way, which they did with a nod. There was an odd hitch to their gait as they walked, but he made no comment as he followed them into the ship’s lift. 

~~~  
Brae felt awkwardly self conscious, walking ahead of the Primarch. Something in the way he had studied their face had made them intensely self-aware, and they almost winced as the brace on their leg forced them into an ungainly almost-limp that he couldn’t possibly help but notice. They hated wearing the thing, but it was better than a cast. The doctors on the Citadel had given them boneweave to strengthen the leg and speed healing time, but it would still take time. At least they were mobile, even if they wouldn’t be cleared for combat for a while yet. They’d been able to stay on the _Normandy_ , and that was the important part. 

The silence that enveloped the two of them as the lift doors slid closed didn’t help settle their nerves any, and they were glad that the Primarch seemed to be focused on reading something on his omnitool instead of watching them. Probably their file, Brae realized as they felt a flush creep up the back of their neck. They silently cursed at themself to get their shit together, and decided to break the silence.

“The mess is on deck 3, and medbay, though hopefully you won’t need that.” They awkwardly half-laughed, stealing a glance at Victus. He was watching them again.  _ Balls.  _

They continued rambling until the lift reached deck 2, giving an overview of the ship’s layout. They breathed a sigh of relief as the doors opened and the sounds of the bustling CIC rushed in to dull the awkward that threatened to turn their cheeks red.

They stepped out, mentally noting Specialist Traynor’s absence curiously, and gestured off to the left. “We’ve set up makeshift quarters down that corridor, yours is the one at the end. I saw to it that it was set up for a turian, but if you notice anything lacking be sure to let me know.” They said, turning back to face the Primarch. “I assume you’ll want to get set up in the war room first?” They lifted an eyebrow in question as they met his gaze for the first time since leaving the shuttle bay, and felt their cheeks start to pinken despite themself.

“You assume correctly.” If he had noticed Brae blushing like a schoolgirl, he at least had the grace not to comment on it. “I need to get in contact with Palaven Command as soon as possible.” He made a similar gesture to the one he’d made back at the shuttle, indicating they should lead the way, and followed nearly silently behind them. If they hadn’t worked closely with a turian special forces unit before, Brae would have marveled at someone so large moving so quietly, but they had learned that a certain grace was common among his people.

Brae introduced him to the guards and saw that his bio marker was keyed to the door to allow him unrestricted access before continuing into the war room. Through it all he was polite but stoic, speaking no more than necessary, and Brae found themself trying to get a read on him. So much of turian expression was in the voice, and as Brae’s ears remained stubbornly human, they found themself at a disadvantage.

But some things, it seemed, were universal; something in his eyes conveyed the same frustration and rage that Brae themself had felt at leaving Earth.

They helped him get settled into his workspace, where a handful of communications had already begun to arrive from Palaven Command, and worked with Traynor to set up the secure channels he would require. Traynor had seemed flustered when she reappeared, gushing something about EDI that Brae only half paid attention to as they worked. 

Dr. Eva’s body?  _ Creepy. _

Brae’s self-awareness faded as they worked, relieved to be doing something useful for the moment, it helped ease the frustration of not being able to physically join the fight themself.

After two hours, it seemed Primarch Victus had everything he needed. He had buried himself in reports and communications the moment the secure channels were in place, and he almost didn’t seem to notice Brae as they made a few final adjustments to make the human designed equipment more accessible to his turian physiology. Brae thought that was unlikely however, he had both the air and the reputation of being someone who was always aware of their surroundings. At least he wasn’t looking at them like they were a puzzle that needed solving anymore.

As Brae turned to their own console at last to continue their other duties as a temporary tech, their stomach started to growl, and they tried to remember how long it had been since breakfast. It was so easy to lose track of time in space.

“You should go eat something.” The Primarch’s voice startled them into turning to look at him. He hadn’t even looked up from his screen. 

_ Of course _ he could hear that.

It struck Brae that Victus had been in the middle of a battle  when Commander Shepard had found him, and he had been with them ever since. He was still wearing his armor, they noticed with a jolt. However long it had been since Brae had last eaten, it had likely been much longer for the Primarch. Hell, they’d be willing to bet he hadn’t even slept in at least a day.

They snorted a humorless laugh. “Yeah, I suppose I should. And you should rest, Primarch.”

Victus waved a hand in their general direction, still not looking up. “I’m fine, Lieutenant. I have a lot to get up to speed on.”

Brae nodded, and turned to go, “I’ll bring you back something hot from the mess then. You must be just as hungry as I am.”

He only hummed in response, and Brae couldn’t help throwing one last look over their shoulder at him before letting the door close behind them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who read and reviewed the first chapter <3
> 
> next update should be in the next couple days
> 
> Also: a huge thank you to Threewhiskeylunch for beta reading this chapter for me <3


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again to the wonderful Hotot, your critiques make me a better writer <3  
> also, thank you o everyone who has encouraged me as I write this, you're all amazing!  
> I promise, we'll get to the good bits soon ;p

Brae had long since given up even the pretext of trying to focus on their work. Despite the heavily reinforced doors, the sound of raised voices carried all the way to the war room, and their nerves hummed, trying to decipher what was being said. The krogan’s voice was easiest to distinguish, but they still only caught one word in ten. 

Brae ran their fingers through their hair for the hundredth time since the summit began and started pacing; grateful that the war room was mostly deserted for once. Traynor was the only other person there at the moment, and she currently had her head buried in the QEC; installing an upgrade that would improve reception or something. Brae hadn’t really listened.

They were intensely aware of how much was riding on this alliance being formed, and how difficult it would be to convince the salarian Dalatrass to go along with it. The Urdnot clan chief’s shouting wasn’t going to make it any easier to convince her, but Brae couldn’t bring themself to blame Wrex. His people had been poorly used. Brae would likely be shouting too, were they in his shoes.

They hated everything about this. Eavesdropping, cooped up on a ship with the knowledge that their people were dying by the millions, unable to do anything concrete to help. They knew the work they were doing  _ was _ helping, but it didn’t  _ feel _ like helping. Their hands drifted back up to their hair as they paced, rubbing their palms in a soothing motion over the soft bristles of the buzzed sides as they tangled their fingers in the longer hair up top.  

They kept glancing at the door, measuring their steps from the terminal to the wartable, to the door and back again, praying to nothing in particular that this alliance would work.

Eventually, they heard the telltale click of the lock and whirled around, heart leaping to their throat, as the door opened to Primarch Victus. He looked more exhausted than they had seen him to date, and he didn’t say a word as he strode to the wartable, tension radiating from him with every movement. He spared Brae a glance as he neared them, his eyes seeming to linger on the top of their head for just a moment, and Brea hurriedly tried to smooth down the mess they’d made of their hair, the start of a flush creeping up their neck.

“I take it you heard that” he said, picking up a long-cold cup of tea Brae had brought him before the summit, throwing it back like a shot of liquor.

“I heard the tone, missed most of the words.” Brea said, securing their hair back into a ponytail and moving to lean a hip on the wartable beside him. They tried not to let their nerves creep into their voice, and was only partially successful. “What happened?”

Victus glared at the empty mug in his hand for a moment before responding, looking almost like he might like to throw it. “It seems the Salarian Union has been less than forthcoming with us about their recent activities.” He made a sound so low that Brae felt it more than they heard it, the sound activating the sense that they were in a room with a dangerous predator. They remained motionless, letting the growl they knew was not directed at them raise gooseflesh on their skin as it passed through them, and waited for him to continue. 

“We’re on our way to Sur’Kesh now to liberate some krogan captives.” there was a dangerous edge to Victus’s voice, and he tightened his grip on the mug. “Fertile ones.”

Brae couldn’t help their sudden intake of breath at that revelation. “They’ve cured the genophage?”

Victus snorted humorlessly, and set the mug down on the table with more force than was strictly necessary. “It appears one of their people did, and they’ve been trying to cover it up.” He actually growled this time, and Brae could feel his frustration like a physical presence in the room. Maybe it would make friends with Bae’s own frustrations. 

“Are you going planetside, then?” Brae said, pushing aside the image of the corporeal manifestations of frustration and grief going out to catch a vid and have a drink. 

“No. Urdnot has requested that only Shepard, Vakarian, and Dr. T’soni accompany him to reclaim his people. He trusts them.” The growl in his voice was muted now, and he seemed to have gone unnaturally still, staring at something on his terminal. Brae suppressed a shiver as the flush crept up into their cheeks.

So far as they could tell, the Primarch hadn’t been faring much better than themself in handling the waiting. He’d spent the days leading up to this summit pacing around the war room like a caged animal in between command briefings on the QEC and meetings with Shepard. Brae was certain he must be sleeping at some point, but they could count the number of times they’d seen him outside this room on one hand, with fingers left over.

Curious, they craned their neck to see what he was staring at so intently. It looked like a list of names, numbers, and locations, but it was scrolling too fast for Brae to make out the details. 

_ Casualty reports _ , they thought, then steeled themself to take a step closer to Victus. Slowly, watching him for a reaction, they stepped into his personal space and reached past him to shut off the display. This close, they could feel the heat and tension radiating off of him like a furnace, and when he turned his head to meet their gaze, they felt like a jolt of electricity had hit them in the gut.  Heat began to gather both in their cheeks and in their core, and they stood motionless, hand still outstretched, and watched him watching them.

He was studying Brae with an intensity he hadn’t turned on them since the first day he’d come aboard the Normandy, only this time there were scant inches of space between instead of several feet and one Commander Shepard. This time, Victus didn’t look away, or even move. They felt his subvocals vibrating the air between them, and his mandibles moved in a slow, thoughtful motion as he seemed to consider them.

Brae forcibly silenced the voice in the back of their head that shouted at them that this was a stupid idea. 

Victus shifted, coming slightly closer so that the fabric of his jacket just grazed their chest, pushing into their space, if only slightly. Miniscule movements of his nose plates made Brae think he was smelling them; the thought sent another jolt to their core. Never breaking eye contact, they lifted their chin and let their head fall slightly to the side, exposing their neck to him as they let out a shaky breath. 

The air hummed with renewed intensity as Victus watched them, the movement clearly drawing a reaction from the turian, even if they couldn’t read all of it. Slowly, he straightened his posture, towering over Brea’s 5’9” frame, and brought a hand up to Brae’s bare throat, his subvocals growing louder, almost hungry. They gasped as his gloved talons traced feather-light over their skin, and let their eyes fall shut.

A quiet gasp coming from behind them brought Brae crashing back into reality, and the hand at their throat vanished the same instant. They could feel the loss of the heat pouring off him as Victus startled away like a teenager caught stealing a kiss on the porch just after curfew. Brae could feel their face burning with a mix of arousal and shame as they turned to face Traynor, whose presence they had completely forgotten.

“Um.. What..?” Traynor’s question trailed off as she looked back and forth between the two of them, clearly putting the pieces together in her mind. Brae cleared their throat awkwardly, and sudden realization dawned over Traynor’s face. “Oh. Ohh!” Her face flushed almost as bright as Brae’s. “Oh I’m so sorry! Let me just, umm..” Neither of them moved as Traynor bolted for the door, throwing another apology over her shoulder as she left.

Silence settled over the room, and Brae’s gaze landed back on the Primarch, finding him watching them again, looking about as flustered as they felt, and more out of sorts than they had ever seen him. Without warning, laughter started to bubble up through Brae’s chest; starting with a chuckle and escalating to a roar that they couldn’t seem to stop. They bent over, leaning on the wartable as tears began to form in their eyes. What the  _ fuck _ were they doing? Propositioning the turian Primarch in the middle of the war room, in the middle of a war? 

“Brae?” They almost wouldn’t have recognized his voice if they weren’t so  _ aware _ of his presence at the moment, their first name sounded uncertain on his tongue. Or perhaps it was just that  _ he _ felt uncertain. 

Brae managed to get their hysterical laughter under control, pushing it down until there was nothing left but a random hiccuping chortle. Wiping their eyes with a bit of their sleeve, they pushed off the table and turned around to face him. “I’m sorry, Primarch, I just...” They almost lapsed into another fit of laughter, having to take a deep breath to fight it back, and looked at him for the first time since Traynor had fled.

Brae had never seen him like this: flustered, uncomposed, and obviously at a loss for words. They tucked away a mental picture for later before pushing the thought into a back corner of their mind. They opened up their mouth to speak, only to find that they didn’t know what to say either. Opting to shut it rather than risk something foolish falling out of their mouth, they settled for an uncertain shrug instead.

Victus stared at them, a mixture of emotions Brae couldn’t read vibrating the air between them. He took a step back to brace himself on the railing; shaking his head as if to clear it.

“Spirits, I...” He paused for a moment, looking intensely at his feet. Brae couldn’t get enough of a read on him to tell what he might say, so they tried to brace themself for anything. “That.. gesture that you made. It has.. Implications.” He looked up to them, his gaze taking on its previous intensity, his voice going so soft it was barely audible. It was audible enough.“Somehow, I think you know  _ exactly _ what it means.” He made another rumbling noise and nodded towards the door, his eyes still not leaving theirs. “I think we both need a break. I at least am not eager to stay in this room until the ground team is finished on Sur’Kesh. If it is alright with you, I think we should both eat something, and I think we should talk about this.”

Brae nodded, forcing themself to relax even as their heart tried to leap into their throat at the tone in his words. “I  _ am _ hungry. And..” They let a trace of a wicked smile lift the corners of their mouth, “I know where Garrus stashes his brandy.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I LIVE!!!  
> so sorry for disappearing for almost a year there, times are hard and I lost my mojo  
> but I'm back, and I'll be updating this and my other fics a lot more regularly  
> <3

Adrien’s head was still reeling as he followed the Lieutenant down to the crew deck; it took a lot to break his careful composure, yet the human soldier had just managed to do so. He tried to ignore the pressure behind his plates, willing it to go down so he could think clearly. Then they were enclosed in the lift together, the strange but unmistakable scent of their arousal in the air, and his body had other ideas. He took a steadying breath, suddenly very grateful that Vakarian was off on a mission, no one else on the  _ Normandy _ should be able to pick up on the hungry whine in his subvocals, or hazard a guess at who they were directed at.

If they were turians on a turian vessel, this would be different, he told himself. Simpler. Not that Brae’s species was a problem for him per se, merely a variable he had never considered nor expected, until their brazen advances in the war room moments ago. Now that that proverbial can had been opened, he was having difficulty thinking of anything else, even his worries about the salarians and krogan were relegated to a back corner of his mind. The warmth of Brae’s proximity, the sharp tang of arousal, and the memory of their throat trembling under his hand were far too present for him to focus.  

_ Spirits _ , he needed that drink. He needed to clear his head and  _ talk _ to them before he got ahead of himself. His instinct said that Brae was very much aware of what they were offering him, but he needed to be sure. Submission in this context might mean something different for humans. 

A subdued chatter filtered in from the mess when the lift opened on deck three, and Adrien suddenly realized that he had no idea where they were going, but he hoped it was somewhere a little more private than the crowded tables near the kitchen.

As if reading his thoughts, Brae grinned up at him and jerked their head to the left. “Door at the end of the hall, should be empty this time in the cycle, what with a team on the ground and all..” They trailed off as their face flushed red again, taking a step backward down the corridor to the mess. “I’m just gonna grab some food for us and I’ll meet you there.”

Adrien almost protested, but cut himself off as Brae spun on their heel and strode off in what was to him a needlessly brisk pace. They might need a moment to collect themself, and his presence in the mess would raise more questions than Brae’s alone, since he rarely ventured beyond the war room. So he watched them instead, letting himself appreciate their compact form in a new light as they disappeared around the corner, gait still slightly off kilter because of the brace they wore on their leg. 

Shaking himself in an attempt to clear his head, Adrien moved to investigate the door Brae had indicated. After a quick scan of the room to confirm that it was indeed empty, he was surprised to find such a spacious observation lounge on an Alliance vessel, much less one with what appeared to be a well stocked bar. Didn’t seem to be the Alliance’s style, not that he was inclined to complain. 

Upon closer inspection of the bar, Adrien easily found a three-quarters full bottle with turian script and a piece of blue tape around the neck sitting among a small collection of other liquors. He recognized the mark of a small Cipritine brewery and huffed in surprise; this was high quality stuff, he almost felt bad for drinking it uninvited. At the thought of Cipritine, he tasted a bit of phantom smoke, and quickly set the bottle down to look for a glass. 

By the time Brae returned, he had had time to become restless. He sipped at his drink, trying to get comfortable on one of the couches before switching to a chair, but was unable to make himself relax. So he took to pacing instead, inspecting every inch of the room as his slow, measured steps took him back and forth from the gaming table to the bar.  

He heard them coming down the corridor, but their footsteps faltered outside the door. After a moment of indecision, Adrien went to the door himself, opening it on a rather flustered looking Brae, their face turning a shade of pink that was quickly becoming familiar to him. 

“Oh! Uh.. Thank you!” Their flush intensified as he silently offered to take the trays of food they carried.

“Of course.” Adrien stepped back with the trays, both to allow Brae entrance, and to ease the renewed heat that spread through him at their proximity. 

The minute the door had shut behind them, Brae gave the room a quick scan and immediately dropped to their knees in front of one of the couches, waving vaguely at the bar before bending to root around underneath. “Probably be easiest to eat at the bar. Brandy should be there somewhere too.”

Adrien had to tear his gaze away from their waist, something in the way they had dropped to their knees so casually stirred something in him, and he swallowed a fresh wave of arousal as he turned away to set the trays on the bar. 

“I found it already, I thought you said Vakarian had it stashed away somewhere” He said as he carefully laid out the trays and utensils Brae had brought. It looked like pretty standard fare, his vacuum-sealed steak only a step above nutrient paste in flavor, but it would keep a body going. He could only hope all his people were eating as well tonight. He shook his head free of the thought as he turned back around to watch Brae straining to reach under the back of the couch.

“He did.” Brae snorted, “The only- Ah-ha!” Their sentence cut off by an exclamation as they apparently found what they were looking for, and began to pull it out. “The only other turian on board never leaves the war room, so it’s not like he had to hide it  _ well _ ”

Adrien couldn’t help but smile at that, he imagined he could feel his mandibles creak as they swung out into an expression he hadn’t worn in months. “I suppose you’re right.” 

Then Brae was looking up at him from the floor, a bottle of their own cradled in their arms, and the wicked grin spreading across their still flushed face almost made Adrien forget to breathe. 

“ _ I _ , on the other hand,” Brae grunted as they pulled themself back to their feet, “Had to be rather more clever.” They held the bottle out for his inspection, clear glass full of some dark liquid, a many-tentacled creature devouring a boat on the label. “I found it on the Citadel, just after..” they trailed off, and shrugged. “I suppose it’ll be a long while before any of us see real rum again.”

Not sure how to respond, Adrien settled for simply passing an empty glass to Brae, waiting for them to pour themself a drink before holding his glass up after a human custom he hazily recalled. 

“To Earth” He said, trying to communicate his shared grief and hope through his voice, but unsure of how much they understood.

Brae met his gaze, raising their own glass with a slightly watery smile, and answered. “And to Palaven.” They took a shaky breath before continuing, “And to our people who still defend them.” They looked for a moment like they had more to say, but instead of going on, they lifted their glass and drained it in one smooth motion.

Adrien followed suit, letting the brandy burn the taste of smoke from his mouth and praying the spirits of Palaven would prove strong enough to see his people through this.

Neither of them seemed to know how to break the silence after the toast, a sombre pall draped over the room, so they wordlessly settled on barstools and turned to their food. Adrien hardly tasted his, moving it mechanically into his mouth bite by bite, and trying to drag his mind away from Palaven. By degrees, he became aware of just how close Brae was sitting to him, the heat of their presence slowly burning through his tortured thoughts until they were once again his sole focus. 

Brae stretched and relaxed at the end of their meal, letting their legs relax until their knee pressed against Adrien’s thigh, and he went instantly still, trying not start away from the unexpected contact. After a moment he returned the pressure, warmth spreading from the small point of contact up into his chest, and reached to refill both their glasses. 

“I’m sorry” Brae said as they accepted the newly full glass he passed them. “That was a bit of a mood killer, huh?” They kept their eyes focused on the rum in their hands, and Adrien noticed the flush was once again creeping up their neck.

Moving on instinct, Adrian tentatively touched their cheek, the gentle pressure encouraging them to look at him. When they did, he couldn’t completely read their expression, but there was such warmth and vulnerability in their eyes that he couldn’t help the comforting rumble the seeped into his subvocals to mingle with the desire he was already expressing. “You have nothing to apologize for, Lt Engelstad.”

“Brae” they said, their voice barely audible even to him.

Adrien flicked his mandibles, brow plates raising in question, as Brae took a deep breath and continued in a steadier voice.

“You called me by my first name earlier, in the war room.” Their flushed face took on a darker shade of pink as they spoke. “I like it. And.. given the subject we came down here to discuss, I think first names are in order.” 

“Brae” He let their name roll off his tongue in a near whisper and was gratified by a slight shiver in their throat as they swallowed and wet their lips. 

Grudgingly, he let his hand fall from their face and picked up his drink, feeling decidedly out of his element; looking at this human in front of him, all his frustration and grief momentarily drowned out by overwhelming want.

“I’m afraid you have me at a distinct disadvantage, Brae.” he took a quick gulp of his brandy and placed it back on the bar. “If you were a turian..” he trailed off as Brae stiffened next to him.

“I’m not a turian. If that’s a problem, then I..” They slid off the stool and backed a step away from him, inching toward the door. “I’m sorry, I should go.” they made to turn, but Adrien straightened up off his own stool and brushed his gloved talons against their shoulder, freezing them at the unexpected contact, and he quickly withdrew his hand.

“Brae, I’m sorry.” He looked at his hands then helplessly, back at them. “It’s not a problem, at least not how you think. Spirits…” He swore and reached his hand out again, not quite touching them. “It’s just that I don’t have a script for this. I don’t even know how this works.”

Brae contemplated him for a moment, a smirk slowly returning to their lips. “I assure you, it works.”

Adrien swallowed, ignoring the jolt of electricity Brae’s words had sent to his loosening plates, and took a step toward them. 

“I know it works, in theory, but.” He paused just within the boundary of Brae’s personal space and raised his hand to their throat. “I know this does something for you.” He dropped his hand and noted the shiver that ran through them as he continued. “But other than that, I don’t know how to touch you.”

“Well,” Brae said, closing the distance between them even further. “I can show you.”

Adrien went still for a moment, trying to wrap his head around what exactly Brae was offering him. He could smell their arousal, easily read the hungry look in their eyes, but he also knew with a certainty that he could say no, send them away, and it would be the last he heard of this. But he was so curious about this human, and he couldn’t deny that he wanted them

_ “Spirits,” _ he swore under his breath as he realized he’d already made this decision. “Lock the door.” 

He turned his back as they moved towards the door, pouring himself a third drink against his better judgment. Turning back, he noted the door lock glowing red and Brae standing in front of it, seeming uncertain despite their brazen offer of a moment ago. He turned back to refill their glass as well, and carried it to them across the room. Their eyes never left his face until he was placing the drink in their hands.

Swallowing his rumbling arousal, Adrien stepped back and turned to look at Sur’Kesh, floating outside the viewport. Clearing his throat, he said, “Before we go any farther, we need to talk about this.” He felt more than heard Brae come up beside him, their presence like a crackling disturbance in the magnetic field of the room. They turned to lean back against the glass and studied their drink intently. 

“We do,” Brae said at length, still avoiding his gaze.

Adrien turned so he was leaning back on the window next to them and took a slow careful sip of his brandy, waiting for them to continue.

Brae sighed, their head falling back to rest on the window with a quiet  _ thunk.  _ “Well, for a start, I’m trans. Nonbinary. I have a.. Complicated relationship with my body, and with the way people interact with it.” Brae’s words came slow and measured, what he could see of their face in profile seemed carefully expressionless. 

Adrien wanted to give them some form of comfort, but hadn’t the slightest idea how to begin, or do it in a way that would be welcome, so he stayed where he was and tried to make his voice as soothing as possible. “The pronouns you use.. You don’t want to be gendered.” 

Brae nodded and tossed back their drink before continuing. “I have this body, and people make assumptions about me because of it, often even because I’m trans. Assumptions about what I should wear, how I should act,” A flush crept up their cheeks as they spoke, “Even about how I should fuck. The long and the short of it is that people often seem to want to put me in boxes, and even I don’t always understand all the ways that I don’t fit.”  

Silence settled over the room as Adrien let their words settle in, trying to make sure he understood what they were telling him before he responded.

“Okay,”

Brae turned to look at him, expression unreadable, and Adrien felt truly out of his depth, discussing gender with an alien. He wasn’t sure how to communicate that he understood, or even be sure of that himself. 

“Brae, thank you for your candidness.” He said, still searching for words. “I’ll admit, human ideas about gender have never made much sense to me, but what you just said does.” He coughed awkwardly. “Make sense, that is.” Setting his glass on a nearby table, he turned to lean his shoulder against the window, facing them but not approaching. “The last thing I want to do is make you uncomfortable, Brae. I’m not sure how to want you, but it seems I do. If you could.. Teach me how to want you,” he swallowed, his voice coming out at a low hum, “I would be grateful.”

Brae studied him for a long moment, their expression still that careful, unreadable mask, but Adrien could see moisture gathering in their eyes. When they at last looked away, they quickly brought a hand up to rub under their eyes, and a bit of that rare laughter he’d heard before escaped them. “Okay.” 

Adrien turned to look out the viewport, giving them time to compose themself, letting a comfortable silence stretch between them. He was almost startled when they spoke. 

“I suppose we should also talk about the fact that I bared my throat to you.” Brae’s voice had a sheepish note to it, and when Adrien turned, he found them twirling their empty cup between their palms, all their focus seemingly absorbed in the simple motion.

“We should. Do you know what that means in my culture?”  

“I do,” Brae carefully set the glass down on a nearby table, still not looking at him. They seemed to be having trouble finding the words, so Adrien hummed encouragingly and waited for them to go on.

“I know it means submission. In this context, it means the sexual sort.” He could practically feel the heat of their blush radiating off of them as they spoke. “It’s.. something I’m into.” Brae pushed off the wall suddenly, coming to face him and once again meeting his eyes. “Human kink isn’t all that different from turian kink, when you come down to it.. The language we use to talk about it is just different.” Brae shrugged. “Submitting and being overpowered is one of my kinks.”

Adrien huffed at that even as the image of Brae on their knees inserted itself into his mind along with another wave of arousal. “Submissive isn’t exactly a word I’d use to describe you.”

Brae laughed at that, the first real laugh he’d heard from them, apart from their near-hysterical fit earlier, but that didn’t compare to this. Adrien found himself utterly charmed and entranced at the sound.

“It’s…” Brae’s laughter trailed off, but an echo of mirth remained in their voice. “How to describe it? It’s not.. I mean.” Another short laugh escaped them as they searched for words. “It’s more about pageantry. It’s play. Sometimes it’s exploring scary things in a safe environment. Most importantly,” They took a breath, eyes glued to his. “It’s about trust.”

Adrien nodded, not looking away from their face. “And do you trust me, Brae?”

It seemed their breath left them all at once and their voice came, quiet, yet steady and assured, “I trust you, Adrien.”

A rumble of pleasure escaped Adrien's chest at Brae’s words, the proclamation of trust and the sound of his given name on their lips for the first time warming him to the core as he cast about for the right thing to say in response. He took a step forward, still unsure of what he was going to say, and raised his hands, palm up toward Brae, the gesture one of acceptance and offering. 

“Thank you, Brae. I will do everything I can to ensure your trust is well placed.” he said, gaze never leaving their face, and waited for them.

Brae looked down at his raised palms, then back up at him their expression once again open and vulnerable, with a trace of something he thought might be gratitude that hadn’t been there before. Adrien swallowed a sudden lump in his throat as Brae slowly raised their hands to lay on top of his, fingers coming to rest lightly around his wrists as he followed suit in a gesture that comforted him with it’s familiarity despite the addition of a few fingers.

Tearing his eyes away from theirs, he looked down at their hands on his, their fingers not quite reaching all the way around his wrists, and it sunk in for the first time just how small they were compared to him. He gently squeezed their wrists, feeling the soft give of their flesh under his hands, how little pressure it would take for him to break their skin. 

“We’ll need a signal,” He said, looking back up to Brae’s face, and would have dropped his hands if they hadn’t tightened their grip, this new realisation making him hesitant. “To stop things if- You can’t communicate with subvocals, and I need to know if..” he trailed off as Brae released one of his wrists and raised their hand to the side of his face.

“You’re not going to hurt me, Adrien.” Brae smirked, “At least, not any more than I want you to hurt me. But you’re right, we do need a safeword.” Their fingers gazed down the length of his mandible, and Adrien couldn’t form words for a moment.

“Safeword.” He repeated dumbly, bringing his own hand up to press theirs more firmly against his face.

Brae nodded, “Something that shouldn’t come up in normal conversation. One of us says it, everything stops, and we address the problem.”

“Any ideas?”

Tilting their head back, Brae seemed to consider for a moment before answering. “Shanxi.”

That took Adrien aback for a moment, and startled a laugh out of him. “That should do the trick.”

Brae grinned up at him, “I thought you might like that.” They pressed their hand more firmly against his face, and Adrien let go of their other wrist to cautiously touch their face. They closed their eyes as they pressed into the contact, and he took full advantage of the opportunity to study them. He should have been shocked at how quick and easily he’d fallen into such intimate touches, but he wasn’t. He’d always been affectionate with his partners, the fact that the very idea of this partnership was barely an hour old was not a thought he was willing to entertain at the moment.

“You said I wouldn’t hurt you any more than you wanted me to,” Adrien said when Brae opened their eyes, “Is that..” He trailed off, unsure of how to ask.

Brae flushed again and ducked their head. “I like a little pain. Nothing lasting, and if you’re uncomfortable, then we don’t have to include it, but uh, you don’t have to be too careful with me.” They looked back up at him, the words coming out so fast Adrien was surprised Brae didn’t trip over them, and he had to swallow a laugh.

Adrien opened his mouth to ask Brae to expand on that, but they kept going before he could get a word out.

“Like, um, scratching, biting, spanking, hair-pulling, that sort of thing..” They trailed off and bit their bottom lip as they looked up at him. Adrien added that image to the others stored away to revisit later.

“Hair pulling?” Adrien said, considering the way Brae’s hair had looked just after the summit, loose, tousled, and framing the side of their face. He felt a rush of heat in his plates as he imagined burying his hands in it. “I’ll need you to show me.”

Brae’s mouth curled up into an expression he could only describe as wicked, as they reached up and pulled off the band that kept their hair tied back. They made a show of shaking it out, their fingers combing through it slowly releasing a surprisingly sweet scent that Adrien couldn’t help but bend closer to inhale. Eventually seeming satisfied with the way it lay down the right side of their face, they reached for his hand, and he suddenly couldn’t peel his gloves off fast enough, fumbling like an overeager fledgling.

If Brae noticed his clumsiness, they didn’t mention it, simply waiting for him to finish and place his ungloved hand in theirs. Adrien’s breath caught as they guided his hand to their hair, their fingers guiding his to tangle up in it, pressing them closed into a fist.

“Always grab a nice handful.” Brae’s voice drew his attention back to their face, tipped back to look at him “.you can pull harder on a large chunk of hair than you can on a small one.” Their words came calm and professional, like training a recruit how to hold a gun, but the heady scent of arousal and the way they trembled as they guided his hand assured him they were anything but unaffected. 

Cautiously, watching Brae’s face for any sign of discomfort, Adrien began to apply pressure to their hair. Their breath caught and their eyes fluttered closed as the pressure increased, and he found them turning to putty in his hands, he could move their head however he wished. They let out a trembling breath as he bent their head to the side, and Adrien felt something hot and hungry move in his chest, vibrating the air between them as he bent to scent along the exposed skin of their neck.

“Brae,” His voice came thick as he breathed their name against their skin, felt them tremble in response. “Show me.”

Adrien felt a shiver pass through Brae at his words, telegraphed up his arm and down to his loosening groin plates. A moment later, Brae was stepping away, and a hint of a whine crept into his subvocals as he let their hair slip from his grasp.

“Why don’t you make yourself comfortable?” Brae said, motioning to a nearby chair. Adrien wasn’t sure he was capable of feeling comfortable at the moment, but he wordlessly turned the chair to more fully face them and sank into it. Brae stepped backwards toward the window as Adrien settled himself, and when he once again turned his attention towards them, they were framed by Sur’Kesh on one side, an inky expanse scattered with stars on the other. 

“Okay, Brae’s anatomy 101,” Brae laughed, and Adrien didn’t care that he didn’t get the joke, he had a growing appreciation for that sound. “I’m sensitive pretty much all over, if I try to list all the erogenous zones, we’ll be here all night. Good rule of thumb is to explore a bit, you might be surprised by what you find.” Brae smiled and started unbuttoning their shirt, and Adrien suddenly couldn’t figure out what to do with his hands, moving them from the armrests to his knees and back again, unconsciously clenching and opening them as he tried to make himself sit still.

Adrien made a careful study of Brae’s body as they shrugged their uniform efficiently  to the floor until they stood in only a set of skin tight black shorts and a matching undershirt that covered the top third of their torso.  He found himself mesmerized by the stripes of nearly iridescent looking skin on the swell of their hips, the divot in the middle of their belly, the way he could see the muscles moving under the skin of their thighs as they finished kicking their pants off, fabric stubbornly catching on the brace they still wore on their injured leg.

Brea shifted awkwardly under his gaze, drawing Adrien’s attention back to their face. “So, this is where the complicated relationship with my body comes in.” They pressed their hands against their chest as they spoke, as if they could force the shape of their body to change. “I don’t always, or often, like for my chest to be touched. I wear a bra when I’m on duty, but when I’m off duty I prefer to wear a binder to keep my chest flat. If I’m wearing a binder, you can touch my chest over top of it, if I’m wearing a bra, don’t touch unless I ask you to, and in either circumstance, don’t reach underneath. If I take it off myself, then it’s fair game.” Their expression was resolute, their tone of voice making it clear that these conditions were not up for debate. Not that Adrien would consider debating anything of the sort. 

“Understood,” He said, wondering briefly about whoever had tried to negotiate this point with Brae in the past, but this train of thought was quickly lost as Brae’s hands began moving down their torso. 

“Okay,” They said, gracing him with a smile as their hands wandered over their stomach and hips. “Everywhere else is pretty much fair game, though I may stop you if something Complicated arises in the heat of the moment.”

Adrien nodded, eyes fixed on the small movements of their hands against their own skin, surprised at the strength of his desire for them.

“My skin is so soft,” Brae paused to giggle at the sharp hissing breath Adrien had taken at their words before continuing. “I’ll need you to use oils to soften your plates so that I don’t chaff. Garrus can probably tell you what you need to get.”

Adrien was surprised for a moment that Vakarian’s relationship with Shepard was apparently an open secret on the ship. But he supposed humans likely had ways of reading their own as easily as he had picked up on the the younger turian’s subvocals.  

Brae’s hands paused as they reached the band of their shorts and Adrien watched as they bit their lip, intrigued by the blunt white teeth and soft wet lips as they glanced at the glowing red lock on the door. A moment’s hesitation washed over their face before they looked back at him.

“You good?” there was no hesitation in their voice, though it did take Adrien a moment to parse their meaning.

“Yes,” Adrien said, having forgotten for a moment that Brae wouldn’t be able to hear the excitement and arousal in his subvocals, “Brae, please. Show me.”

All hesitation vanished from Brae’s face as they grinned at him, and slid the undergarment down their legs. “We don’t have long,” They said as they kicked the shorts in the direction of the rest of their uniform. “So I’ll try to make this quick.”

As they straightened, Adrien was surprised to find a nest of hair just above where their soft thighs pressed together, darker, more curly and coarse than the hair on their head. At the same time, the scent of Brae’s arousal strengthened, the sharp, musky scent clearly coming from behind that strange hair, between their thighs. Adrien felt his plates shift, his own arousal emerging to press painfully against his pants.

He shifted in the chair, trying to ease his discomfort as Brae stepped back to lean against the viewport, bracing the flat of one foot against the glass as they spread their legs, and their scent doubled again. Adrien shifted his focus to Brae’s hands as they grazed down the outside of their thighs, then slowly up the inside.

“Like I said,” Brae said, their breath coming heavier as their hands reached the apex of their thighs and proceeded to tease the curled hair there. “I’m sensitive pretty much everywhere, but this… This is the main event.”

Adrien stopped breathing for a moment as Brae’s hands moved lower and they slipped a finger between their plates. No, not plates, he caught himself, Brae wasn’t a turian, but the resemblance was there. Full, and soft, and glistening with moisture like the lips on their face after they’d licked them. Like their lips looked right now, as he glanced up to their face, skin flushed and eyes focused on him. He wanted to bury his face in theirs, taste their tongue and see just how soft those lips were. His talons sank just a hair into the leather of the armchair as he stayed where he was, pushing the urge down and looking back to their hands.

He watched as Brae spread themself open, lost himself in the rhythmic motion of their hand as they stroked their sex, storing away the anatomical terms they gave him as they went. The room was filled with the scent of arousal now, human and turian, and Adrien could barely hear past the humming of blood in his ears, and the rumble of his subvocals; his universe shrunk for a moment to Brae’s slightly parted lips, heavy breath, and the motion of their hand between their legs, all framed by the viewport and the countless stars beyond.

Mesmerized as he was, it took a moment for Adrien to catch Brae’s words when they spoke again.

“I want to see you touch yourself.” A simple request, and Adrien jumped to obey as if it had been delivered by a commanding officer rather than Brae’s husky voice. He sighed in relief as he loosened his pants, allowing his erection room to fully emerge from his plates, and his sigh was echoed by a catch in Brae’s breath. 

There were no more words between them after that, just heavy breathing and quiet wet sounds as they raced to the finish, each making a careful study of the way the other touched themself. 

It didn’t take long before Adrien found himself at the edge of climax, but he held himself back, his hand slowing to a teasing pace as he focused on Brae, determined to watch them finish first.

Brae slowly slid down the glass to rest on their heels, the strength seemingly fading from their legs as the movement of their hand became more frantic, their eyes staying locked on him until they suddenly stiffened, their back arching, weight falling forward onto their knees, their head falling back to expose their throat to him.

Adrien’s grip on himself tightened, but he forced his hands to keep their slow teasing pace as he watched Brae silently ride out their orgasm, making a careful study of the way the muscles rippled under their skin. They shifted forward onto their knees as they came down, movements now relaxed and almost liquid, a small smile playing at the corners of their lips. Their fingers glistened as Brae pulled them out of themself and made an attempt at wiping the moisture onto their thigh.

Adrien felt transfixed, unable to look away from their gaze as Brae began to crawl across the short distance between them. He might have watched them for hours or seconds, they reached his knee both instantly and not fast enough. Then all that mattered was the heat of them against his leg, the question in their eyes as they stretched their hand out to not quite touch him. He shifted slightly, moving his still slick hands back to the chair’s armrests and trilling encouragingly. Then their hands were on him, and he only just managed to suppress a low growl.

Brae’s expression turned to one of wonder as they turned their attention to his cock, fingers first soft and teasing as they explored his length, hard and slick with the strength of his arousal, then firm and efficient as they began to mimic his movements from either a moment or a century ago. Adrien moved to gently brush a strand of hair out of their face and Brae leaned into the contact, so he took that as encouragement and began to stroke their scalp, talons tangling in their curls until he grabbed a handful like they had shown him and pulled.

Brae allowed their head to be pulled back, and their throat was a thing of beauty. Adrien could see himself getting used to seeing them like this; on their knees in front of him, lips parted, throat exposed, and a look of naked desire on their face. Adrien suddenly found himself once more teetering on the edge of completion, and as if sensing this, Brae redoubled their efforts as they worked his cock. They pushed him over the edge with a wicked gleam in their eye, and Adrien barely had the presence of mind to move his free hand to catch his release, mandibles going slack as a growl escaped his throat.

They sat like that for a moment after, Adrien’s grip on Brae’s hair loosening and turning into a caress. Brea hummed: a quiet, satisfied sound that echoed Adrien’s own subvocals. Once they’d each gathered their wits about them, Brae looked up at Adrien with an impish grin.

“So.. Good talk.” Adrien could hear the barely contained mirth in their voice, and it drew an answering laugh out of him. Before he could respond, however, Brae’s omnitool began to chirp, and he opted to get himself cleaned up as they checked it, making use of the lounges small sink and supply of bar rags. When he turned back, cleaned up and clothes straightened, he found Brae just finishing the last buttons on their shirt. They flushed and looked up at him almost apologetically,

“My bunk’s empty, I should go crawl into it while I can.” They paused, as if not sure how to continue. “We’ll… talk more about this later?”

Adrien felt himself actually smiling for the first time since.. well, for the first time in a while. He was almost surprised his mandibles didn’t creak. He raised a hand to gently trail down Brae’s cheek as he nodded. “Later. Go get some rest, Lieutenant.”


End file.
